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by efficacious humorosity
Summary: The Host" by Stephenie Meyer. Wanderer misses Ian while he's gone on a raid. When he returns, she welcomes him warmly and he revels in his new ability to make her react to him physically. Fluff. One-shot.


A/N: I own nothing

**A/N: I own nothing. My first fan fic for "The Host"! Enjoy and please read and review! **

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"How are you doing, Wanda?"

I turned, startled by the all-too-familiar voice behind me, the voice that I had heard coming from my own mouth and inside my own head for months on end. Melanie was standing in front of me, staring at me expectantly with her hazel eyes. "I'm… okay," I said vaguely, rubbing my arm nervously.

"You're still an awful liar," she teased, prodding me gently in the ribs with her index finger. She cocked her head at me (humans have strange ways of expressing their curiosity, I was just now noticing), and said, "Now, tell me, Wanda. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I insisted, hoping she wouldn't notice how my eyes darted around the main plaza, looking everywhere but at her face.

"Again with the shitty lying," she said, her mouth twisting into a sick sort of smile. "Come on. We only shared the same mind and body for months. Just tell me what's wrong."

There had been a time where I probably would not have been able to hide it from her. She would have known it immediately, sharing the same mind as we were. But now, separated as we were, she had to ask me these things, though she could guess at them much better than anyone else.

Except for Ian.

Which, of course, was what was bothering me.

Not Ian, he was perfect. But rather, his absence.

I exhaled loudly, blowing some of my blonde hair out of my face. It had been about three months since the humans I loved so much had saved my life, and by then I was almost as used to my new host as I had been to Melanie.

Of course, it was so much easier to assimilate yourself to a new host when she didn't talk back.

It wasn't that I didn't want to tell Mel.

With the exception of Ian, there was no one I trusted more. So it wasn't that I didn't trust it.

It was just… oh, stupid human emotions!

I was embarrassed.

Accordingly, I turned bright red and Mel nudged conspiratorially, something she often did (I discovered after we were put in separate bodies) whenever we discussed something privately.

And that something was usually either Ian or Jared.

"Why do you do that?" I asked curiously, looking at her.

"Why do I do what?" she said, biting her lip and looking confused.

"Nudge me like that," I said, demonstrating by nudging her.

"Oh," she said, chuckling softly to herself. "It's like… camaraderie. A friendship sort of thing."

"I see," I said, nodding my head to show that I understood.

"Back to what I was saying," she continued, remembering our conversation before my query, she lowered her voice, and said, "I assume you miss Ian, yeah?"

Blushing, I nodded, figuring that lying was useless. "It's… strange," I admitted, looking down at my feet. "This is the first time I've really been… apart from Ian, ever since we became partners. I just… I miss his almost constant presence. It was… reassuring, something I could depend on."

"That's understandable," she said, nodding her head. "I feel the same way whenever I'm apart from Jared."

"Yes, but you're far more used to it," I pointed out.

"True," she said, grinning a crooked grin. "Seeing as you decided to take over my body for about a year."

I offered her a small smile, though I still couldn't understand how they managed to find humor in losing their bodies to… parasites, for lack of a better word. Because, all too often, the word was sickeningly appropriate.

"Look, Wanda," she said, her voice soft and gentle now. "Don't worry about the boys. I'm sure they'll be back soon, and I'm sure they're safe. After all, Jared's with them, and he always brings everyone back alive."

I nodded my head, closing my eyes and seeing Ian's smiling face swimming before them.

When I opened them, the image was still there, and I blinked several times, wondering if this host was defective and it was just now showing.

But Ian was really there.

"Surprise!" he said, smiling broadly at me, his sapphire blue eyes sparkling at me happily.

"Ian!" I cried, throwing myself at him and kissing his cheek. "You're back!"

I turned to face Mel, having the sneaking suspicion that she had something to do with this. She was grinning mischievously at me as she explained, "Jared caught me a few minutes ago, and explained that Ian wanted to surprise you. He asked me to keep you distracted for a few moments. It wasn't all that hard."

"Thanks," I said, grinning at her.

"After all you did for me?" she said, shrugging. "It was nothing."

Ian cleared his throat noisily, staring pointedly at Melanie. "Right," she said, sniggering behind her hand, which had reached up to cover her mouth. "I'll give you two some time alone."

"How are you?" I asked, looking up at Ian and scrutinizing his face carefully, as if I was looking for some sort of injury on his handsome face.

"I'm fine," he replied, laughing as he leaned into my hand that was cupping his cheek. It must've snuck up there when I wasn't paying attention. Looking down at me, he said, "And what about you? How are _you_, Wanda?"

"The same as you left me," I told him, resting my head on his chest, deliriously happy.

Ian was back.

Everything was right in the world.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, his voice a mere, low whisper in my ear, so closer that it made me shiver.

I blushed a furious red color and buried my face in his chest, not wanting to admit it aloud.

He took my reaction to be a 'yes,' and chuckled softly, the vibrations in his chest reverberating through my own head. "Don't worry, Wanda. I missed you, too."

I stood my tiptoes, as short as my new host was, and pressed my lips to his, my arms reaching up to wrap around his neck possessively. Almost as if I was claiming him as my own.

Which, in a way, I already had.

The moment my lips touched his, he reacted, his lips moving against mine, slowly tugging my lower lip into his mouth. I gasped loudly when his tongue slid into my mouth, and I felt myself becoming lightheaded with every second the kiss continued. Remembering that we were in a public place and that people were probably staring at us right now, he pulled his lips from mine and slid them across my cheek to my ear, whispering, "Let's take this somewhere more private, yeah?"

I said nothing, but nodded into his chest, still panting for breath as I was.

Smiling, he laced his fingers in mine and gently tugged me in the general direction of our room.

Actually, I hadn't been in our room in a while.

I couldn't stand to sleep alone, sick with worry for him and Jamie. And since Jared was on the raid as well, Mel was left alone, too. So we decided to share a room while Ian and Jared were gone, just to keep each other company. We settled on her room, since she said she felt uncomfortable sleeping in Ian's mattress, whereas I had slept on Jared's before, and was therefore used to it.

These thoughts were sufficient enough to occupy my thoughts all the way to our room. When we reached it, Ian quickly slid open the door and ushered me inside. He followed me in and closed the door behind us, flopping down onto the mattress we shared. I followed suit and settled in next to him, relishing in the warmth and scent that was distinctly him.

His arms wrapped around me tightly, squeezing me as if to remind me that he was there. "I love you, Wanderer," he muttered softly, and I could feel him kiss my hair.

"I love you, too, Ian," I murmured in reply, twisting from my position so that I was lying on top of him, my chin resting on the hollow at the base of his throat.  
"Wanda," he said, his voice constricted, as if he straining very hard not to think about something. "I know you know that humans don't have infinite self-control, so why are you doing this?"

Realizing the kind of discomfort I must be causing him, I rolled off him, settling in by his side again. Still, I asked, "Why are you afraid to…"

"To what?" he said. "Be intimate?"

Blushing, I nodded, looking up at him curiously.

He sighed loudly, running a hand anxiously through his dark hair. "Oh, Wanda, it's not that I don't want to," he told me softly. "It's just that… I don't want to scare you off."

"You held me in my true form in your bare hands," I snorted, "if that didn't scare me off, I don't think anything will."

Chuckling, he said, "It's not that. I know you love me, Wanda. But… it's just that I know you have a hard time dealing with human emotions sometimes, particularly the ones associated with me. I don't want to push you."

"So what exactly are you waiting for?" I asked. "Me to get used to these feelings?"

"I guess so, yeah," he said, shrugging.

"Well, how am I supposed to do that if I never experience these feelings?" I pressed on.

"Wanda," he said quietly, sitting up and looking down at me, "are you saying that… you want to?"

I blushed furiously at the thought, but I nodded my head.

It was true.

I loved Ian, and I wanted him. I wanted all of him.

"Are you sure?" he asked, running a hand through his hair again. Must be a nervous habit.

I nodded and sighed. "Ian, please don't ask me if I'm sure again. I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in this life."

"Yeah, this life is only about three months old," he muttered.

"You know what I mean," I told him firmly. I sat up, scooting closer to him, as if daring him to kiss me.

He did, fiercely, his mouth soft and warm against mine. Slowly, carefully, he slipped his tongue into my mouth, making me gasp again. He tasted so sweet. It was like Mel's memories of Jared, except this was all me. I, and only I, was feeling this.

Much to my disappointment, he pulled away slightly. "Promise me one thing," he mumbled against my lips, seeming distracted.

"Sure," I replied, sucking in a deep breath. I was going to need all the oxygen I could get if the previous activities were going to continue… and with more enthusiasm, I'm sure.

"Just tell me if it gets to be too much, okay?" he said cautiously. "And I'll stop, no matter what, I promise. I may not have perfect self-control, but I'd never do anything to hurt you, Wanderer." His fingers slowly traced the side of neck, as if he was remembering the bruises he had given me the first time we had met. Making out a frown on his face, I guessed that he was.

"I know you won't," I said, catching the hand in my own and bringing it to my mouth, pressing a kiss to it. I didn't have much experience with human intimacy… but Melanie had given me a few pointers. I had expected that conversation to be awkward and clumsy, but after sharing the same mind and body with her, it seemed nothing could be awkward between the two of us. "And I promise I'll tell you."

"Okay," he said, his assent a single grunt before he crushed his lips to mine, this time with much more pressure. I moaned into his mouth again as he slipped his tongue between my lips, exploring the cavern of my mouth. My fingers slowly laced themselves into his dark hair, threading the silky strands between them.

Remembering something Mel had told me, I brought my tongue to meet his, and I was startled by the feral sound he made at the back of his throat. I almost pulled away to ask him if he was okay, but then I remember Melanie's words.

"If he moans or groans or something, don't get worried. It's a good thing," she had told me.

"Really?" I had said, gaping at her in disbelief. "I thought groans or moans were usually negative things."

"Really," she had replied, chuckling at my ignorance. "In some situations, they are negative, but not when you're being intimate. They're an expression of pleasure."

I remembered that now and grinned against his lips, reveling in the fact that I could give him pleasure.

Slowly, so slowly, in fact, that my mind barely registered that he was doing it, he lowered me back down onto the mattress. He loomed over me, careful to prop his weight up on his own arms, one on either side of me.

He trailed kisses down the column of my neck, making me gasp audibly. He pressed his lips to a pulse point on my neck, nipping it lightly. I was sure that if I had been standing, my knees would've buckled. He pulled away slightly and chuckled, clearly amused by something.

"What?" I asked sharply, worried that he was laughing at my reactions.

It turns out that he was, but not in the way that I thought.

"It's just…" he said, trying to find the words for it, "before, when you were in Melanie's body, you didn't react to physical attention whatsoever. But now…"

"You're embarrassing me," I told him honestly, feeling my cheeks flame.

"Don't worry, Wanda," he whispered, and I could feel his hands softly grasping the hem of my shirt. "I love you. And I love knowing that you _are_ affected by me. Truth be told, it was a little unnerving to kiss you and have you not react in anyway whatsoever."

Before I could say another word, he lifted my shirt, exposing my abdomen. I expected him to run his hands over the bare skin, which he did, in fact, do. However, I was not prepared for him to bend his head and press several hot kisses on me, trailing from the bottom of my sternum to my navel. I moaned this time, his name escaping my lips. "Ian."

Apparently, this only egged him on, for he lifted my shirt further upwards. He seemed about to kiss me again, but then he sighed heavily and rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "Ian," I said softly, "Ian, why'd you stop?"

"This is the most we've ever done before, Wanda," he told me quietly. "You may think you're ready to go all the way, but I don't think you are. At least, I don't want to push you too far, not tonight."

I sighed, and I could feel his surprised when I left my body off of the mattress to straddle him, one of my legs resting on either leg of his abdomen. I leaned down and planted as searing a kiss as I could managed onto his lips, parting his lips with my tongue almost immediately. He groaned loudly into me and entwined his fingers in my head, tugging my head down closer to his.

When I felt the need to breathe, I rolled off of him and snuggling into his side, saying, "Ian, I love you, but sometimes I think you've too noble for your own good."

"I love you, too, and maybe I am too noble for my own good," he admitted, turning on his side to wrap his arms around me. He pressed a soft kiss on the back of my heck, right at the top of the scar that marked my insertion into this host. "But not for your good."


End file.
